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this has no ending: an illustrated novel
Matilda Thistle never thought she'd make it past eighteen.
After growing up a girl quiet, observant, and dog-tired of being shaped by the expectations of others, a twenty-two-year-old Matilda flees her childhood bedroom on a random July night. She feels too stuck between adolescence and adulthood. She knows there are only two outcomes at the end of this stay and rot, or disappear without a word.
She chooses the latter.
Matilda runs to Wynn Row, the Southern Ontario town from her childhood that is steeped in nostalgia and farmland mediocrity. There, she meets a man named Gene. Someone a little older, and thoroughly certain of himself. With that wisdom, he is insistent she has barely begun to live, and for the first time, Matilda feels seen. Though a reunion with her childhood best friend, Veruca, plants a corrupting unease Matilda tries to dismiss about this town and the people in it.
Told through prose-poetry, artwork, and an intensely interior, lyrical voice, this has no ending is a raw, "belated coming-of-age" novel. Its language moves through a dreamlike stream-of-consciousness and fragmented formatting, shifting between ordinary prose and dense, metaphorical language to explore and understand the lasting impressions of trauma, the search for identity, femininity, and the struggle to navigate the transition from girlhood to womanhood.
This is a story for the girls who still feel like a teenager in their twenties; for the girls who feel behind, who didn't grow up on time. For the girls who had their naivete taken advantage of by an older man who knew better the whole time. This is a story about learning, at last, how to live inside one’s own body.
** this has no ending is deeply immersive and contains subject matter referencing mental illness (disordered eating, depression, addiction, C-PTSD), abuse (neglect, coercion), and other difficult themes that some viewers may find distressing. This story is intended to be read with care; please prioritize your well-being, and take care of yourself. **
After growing up a girl quiet, observant, and dog-tired of being shaped by the expectations of others, a twenty-two-year-old Matilda flees her childhood bedroom on a random July night. She feels too stuck between adolescence and adulthood. She knows there are only two outcomes at the end of this stay and rot, or disappear without a word.
She chooses the latter.
Matilda runs to Wynn Row, the Southern Ontario town from her childhood that is steeped in nostalgia and farmland mediocrity. There, she meets a man named Gene. Someone a little older, and thoroughly certain of himself. With that wisdom, he is insistent she has barely begun to live, and for the first time, Matilda feels seen. Though a reunion with her childhood best friend, Veruca, plants a corrupting unease Matilda tries to dismiss about this town and the people in it.
Told through prose-poetry, artwork, and an intensely interior, lyrical voice, this has no ending is a raw, "belated coming-of-age" novel. Its language moves through a dreamlike stream-of-consciousness and fragmented formatting, shifting between ordinary prose and dense, metaphorical language to explore and understand the lasting impressions of trauma, the search for identity, femininity, and the struggle to navigate the transition from girlhood to womanhood.
This is a story for the girls who still feel like a teenager in their twenties; for the girls who feel behind, who didn't grow up on time. For the girls who had their naivete taken advantage of by an older man who knew better the whole time. This is a story about learning, at last, how to live inside one’s own body.
** this has no ending is deeply immersive and contains subject matter referencing mental illness (disordered eating, depression, addiction, C-PTSD), abuse (neglect, coercion), and other difficult themes that some viewers may find distressing. This story is intended to be read with care; please prioritize your well-being, and take care of yourself. **
- GenresFiction
286 pages, Paperback
Published July 24, 2026
About the author
Lilou LaFleur
1 book4 followersLilou LaFleur is an independent, Canadian author, and a lifelong multi-medium artist, based in Southern Ontario. She studies English Language and Literature with a devotion to Feminist and Gothic literature. "this has no ending" is her debut novel.
Only forms of social media:
@liloulafleurart on Instagram
@lilou.lafleur on TikTok
Only forms of social media:
@liloulafleurart on Instagram
@lilou.lafleur on TikTok
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
September 3, 2026
"I sometimes wonder what he'd say if I confessed my truth. If, one day, I decided to yank his phone away and chuck it out the window, or drop it in the pond. Explain that I am not his summer girlfriend. That I am, and always will be, a Thistle."
I took my time with this read. I tried to chew on every word, because every word read like a revelation.
Matilda is what I would call an unreliable narrator. She tries so hard to be honest, has intense guilt for lying or deceiving, and meanwhile, the only person she seems to be deceiving is herself. But in amongst her own testimony--which she takes great pains to portray "accurately"--are grains of gilded truth.
Like most women who have been taught to ignore their own power and their right to self-hood, Matilda only lies about the well of her strength. There is far more of it beneath this girl's surface than she gives herself credit for.
Like the quote I inserted above, there are many times where Matilda seems to be on the precipice of discovering her power. She says all the right words, underscores all her best qualities... but then she does something interesting. Something I don't think I've seen any protagonist do before. She undercuts her own strength in the same sentence before the realization of her own power gets the chance to bloom. Instead of owning her autonomy, Matilda seems to confess it.
To me, the quote above reads as empowering. But the lines that follow cement it as a sort of shameful secret:
"He doesn't know who he's loving. I can't help but feel bad about lying. This is the only one that's stuck."
I'm sure many readers found Matilda's self-deception as heartbreakingly exasperating as I did. I'm sure they found it just as relatable, too, which is why I think Matilda feels like such a little sister to me.
Young girls don't know their own power. Sometimes, they never get the chance to find it. Since girlhood, we've been taught to suppress it. To be weak, chaste and ashamed. Because if we ever came to own our power, we'd be a lot harder to control. We'd become unruly, like weeds. Like Thistles.
Matilda's self-appraisal reads like a condemnation. But I see the subconscious work at play. I can read between the lines and see her glinting, razor-sharp thorns growing in. She knows she has power. She just doesn't know how to use it yet. So yes, Matilda is, and may always be a Thistle. But Thistles are hardy. They grow in the unlikeliest of places. They know how to adapt. How to survive. And they know how to bite back. They can never be tamed. And no one should dare to try.
I took my time with this read. I tried to chew on every word, because every word read like a revelation.
Matilda is what I would call an unreliable narrator. She tries so hard to be honest, has intense guilt for lying or deceiving, and meanwhile, the only person she seems to be deceiving is herself. But in amongst her own testimony--which she takes great pains to portray "accurately"--are grains of gilded truth.
Like most women who have been taught to ignore their own power and their right to self-hood, Matilda only lies about the well of her strength. There is far more of it beneath this girl's surface than she gives herself credit for.
Like the quote I inserted above, there are many times where Matilda seems to be on the precipice of discovering her power. She says all the right words, underscores all her best qualities... but then she does something interesting. Something I don't think I've seen any protagonist do before. She undercuts her own strength in the same sentence before the realization of her own power gets the chance to bloom. Instead of owning her autonomy, Matilda seems to confess it.
To me, the quote above reads as empowering. But the lines that follow cement it as a sort of shameful secret:
"He doesn't know who he's loving. I can't help but feel bad about lying. This is the only one that's stuck."
I'm sure many readers found Matilda's self-deception as heartbreakingly exasperating as I did. I'm sure they found it just as relatable, too, which is why I think Matilda feels like such a little sister to me.
Young girls don't know their own power. Sometimes, they never get the chance to find it. Since girlhood, we've been taught to suppress it. To be weak, chaste and ashamed. Because if we ever came to own our power, we'd be a lot harder to control. We'd become unruly, like weeds. Like Thistles.
Matilda's self-appraisal reads like a condemnation. But I see the subconscious work at play. I can read between the lines and see her glinting, razor-sharp thorns growing in. She knows she has power. She just doesn't know how to use it yet. So yes, Matilda is, and may always be a Thistle. But Thistles are hardy. They grow in the unlikeliest of places. They know how to adapt. How to survive. And they know how to bite back. They can never be tamed. And no one should dare to try.
August 4, 2026
Matilda is filled with self loathing and hatred. She feels rotten from the inside out. She reminds me of 15 year old me. Matilda and I endured a lot of the same circumstances. She meets an abusive boyfriend who knows that she is not confident enough to leave. Reading her story felt like I was reading my old diary. I struggled to put the book down, I needed to know what would happen. Would life change for her? Would she escape? Will she find her worth? What a ride this book was. I do however recommend looking up the trigger warnings before reading in case you’re not in the right headspace for this novel. As this does contain heavy topics.
August 16, 2026
“…The willow keeps weeping. The pond keeps pretending it isn't so deep, never been dipped inside.
The house thanks me for doing one good
thing. For staying.”
oh wow, this was an experience - i finished this book within 24 hours because of how addictive it was. made me slightly sick to my stomach, but i suppose that was the purpose.
side note; the music references and illustrations added so much to this story. i’m also a sucker for the claustrophobic setting, with the cornfields and radio towers and televangelism. also a very interesting writing style, my brain feels like cotton candy now 🫡
4.25 stars
The house thanks me for doing one good
thing. For staying.”
oh wow, this was an experience - i finished this book within 24 hours because of how addictive it was. made me slightly sick to my stomach, but i suppose that was the purpose.
side note; the music references and illustrations added so much to this story. i’m also a sucker for the claustrophobic setting, with the cornfields and radio towers and televangelism. also a very interesting writing style, my brain feels like cotton candy now 🫡
4.25 stars
October 5, 2026
i felt quite disappointed by this book. i was very keen to support a canadian author, especially on a debut novel, and was intrigued by the self-illustrated graphics.
i found the story unintentionally difficult to follow, mostly due to the over-reliance on language techniques. more-so tiresome to follow; not everything has to be a metaphor.
the mid-20’s protagonist felt unrealistic through narration; this felt like how i was at 16 and depressed, not a woman in my 20’s.
i found the story unintentionally difficult to follow, mostly due to the over-reliance on language techniques. more-so tiresome to follow; not everything has to be a metaphor.
the mid-20’s protagonist felt unrealistic through narration; this felt like how i was at 16 and depressed, not a woman in my 20’s.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews